Nico di Angelo: Lover of Pillow Fights
by SilverStreaksofStardust
Summary: There is an unexpected visit from the son of Apollo. At first, Nico wants to hide from the Healer. But then he figures that even he himself needs to have fun once in a while.


**A/N** : This is taken a week after three days in the infirmary.

 **Disclaimer:** With the exception of my own plots/OC's, etc.; Rick Riordan owns the rest (quotes, characters, etc.).

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 **.: Nico di Angelo: Lover of Pillow Fights:.**

 _(Nico's P.O.V)_

 _ **He** never notices me._

Or at least, that's what Nico di Angelo thought.

The son of Hades was in his cabin, his blankets pulled over his head, like he was blocking out the outside world. Aggravating words ran through his mind, all full of memories that made his pulse rush.

 _"I told you, no more Underworld-y stuff, doctor's orders,"_ Will had said. The Healer's voice sounded commanding, and the Italian wondered why anyone will boss _him_ around.

Nico considered to just hiding himself from the son of Apollo, despite his feelings . . . or whatever emotion required him to dig down, and reveal everything about himself. That's what it felt like. Nico kept a mask to cover his pain, embarrassment, and most of all—fear of unrequited love.

Yet the Healer could unveil everything in one glance.

 _How come_? Nico wondered numbly. Those simple words could continue into even more questions if he found out. Perhaps since Will was the son of Apollo, there was something involved with truth.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Nico? I know you're in there! I saw you enter, like ten minutes ago."

"Stalker," Nico called out. Admittedly, these past days he seemed to have more fun enjoying himself. Best of all, he learned sarcasm was amusing and everyday will use it, leaving Percy or Jason to sigh at the younger demigod.

"I'm _not_ a stalker!" There was pouting in Will's voice.

"Yes, that will explain you watching me enter my cabin and waiting. Would you call that creepy, or out of friendliness?"

"Friendliness, of course." The sound of the door opened, along with footsteps. "If you're playing hide-and-go-seek . . ." Will began.

"Oh, yes, because I'm seven-years old," Nico said dryly.

"Aw, you're cute enough to be one."

Nico felt the blankets being tugged away, and light poured in his eyes. He grimaced, blinking several times.

Will's face loomed into his. "Peek-a-boo."

"I don't want to see you," Nico grumbled. He felt a tug in his heart, which was quite a habit whenever Will would be this close.

The son of Apollo just rolled his eyes. "I swear, sometimes I think you might be a vampire. You're pale, hate light, and _possibly_ suck blood."

Nico lobbed a pillow at Will, but missed. Ah, yes, ever since Solace read some book series involving with vampires, he will create theories that they _were_ real.

"Did you just try to throw a pillow at my face?" Delight spread on Will's face—of all things. It was likely impossible to sadden the Healer.

"Great observation skills. And yeah, I missed."

"That's because you need good eye-to-hand coordination. Maybe some archery will help."

"Or maybe I don't want to actually hit you."

"Of course you don't. Then you'll hurt my feelings, and you don't want that."

Nico frowned. "How does throwing a pillow at your face hurt your feelings?"

"Because it wouldn't be fair." Keeping a straight face, Will picked up the fallen pillow, and began hitting Nico with it.

"No fair!" the Italian got the second pillow next to him, and deflected the next blow.

For the next ten minutes, they continued until both were breathless and laughing.

"How does this help, Doctor?" Nico mocked.

"Laughing is good for you, and . . ." Will trailed off, a blank look crossing his face.

"What?"

"It's just . . . " Will's mouth twitched. "The son of Hades, who raises the dead, talks to ghosts, and shadow-travels around a part of the world just did a pillow fight."

"Hey! I'm only fourteen! Besides . . . who was the one who started it?"

"You did. You're the person who threw the pillow, not me. Next time we should go and play hide-and-go-seek," Will continued, ignoring the incredulous look given to him.

"I'm _not_ a little kid!" Nico argued.

"No, you aren't. You're Nico di Angelo, Lover of Pillow Fights."

Nico lobbed a pillow once more (this time successfully hitting the son of Apollo), tugged his covers over his head, to hide the blush that crept on his face.

Will chuckled softly. "Good afternoon, Nico."

The sound of the door closed.

Nico couldn't make the smile leave his face.

 _Good afternoon, Doctor_.


End file.
